


StarCrossed

by Anonymous_Creator



Category: Critical Role (Web Series) RPF
Genre: Background Relationships, Discovery, Multi, Mutual Pining, Rating: PG13
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-19
Updated: 2018-11-19
Packaged: 2019-08-26 04:07:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,594
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16674217
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anonymous_Creator/pseuds/Anonymous_Creator
Summary: In which, through random happenstance, two friends realize that their lives have been tumbled upside down by a simple gesture.





	StarCrossed

**Author's Note:**

> The first rule of shipping real life humans is -- don't ship the real life humans. Especially don't ship them anywhere they can SEE it. And for the good grace of green apples don't mention it in places outside of this. This is weird. You're here too, welcome to my weird, weirdling. Enjoy it, but let's respect the real life humans and keep it on the down low.
> 
> I also appreciate comments, all that being said. If you're feeling brave.

Liam felt a blanket drape over his form and wondered if he should fess up to being awake.He was sure there was photo tax for Instagram if he stayed faux asleep. Pride warred against the hope of rest and the comfort and weight of the blanket. He decided chance it.

He felt a hand rest near his head on the couch and then a gentle brush of lips on his hair before the unseen person retreated.His pulse thrummed in his ears for a few moments and he fought the urge to open his eyes and confirm what he already knew.

The only other person in the studio was Matt.

* * *

“He’s mother henning you,” Liam said in the shower. He muttered to himself for a few minutes as he rinsed out his conditioner and rushed through a shave. “Of course he cares about you. He’s one of your best friends. Jesus. It’s a kiss on the head.”

Liam sighed as he wiped away the last bit of foam from his neck. He allowed himself a few moments to lean against the shower wall and enjoy the feel of the water on his back before he pushed away. He still had to face the evening game and he did not want to hit the ground. Again.

“Can’t bend time and reality if I’m dead,” Liam said in Caleb’s voice. He proceeded to run through the German alphabet a few times and breathed the humid air deeply into his lungs, exhaling roughly to loosen the muscles. This morning’s recording session had been hell on his throat. He really needed to stop booking VO on Thursdays. He also really needed to max out the kiddos’ college savings fund for the year.

“One gold star in adulting to Liam O’Brian,” he said, a cheerful mockery of a baseball announcer.

He toweled off and threw on the clothes he’d packed for the game, then sighed and sat down at the dressing table. The new cameras were a marvel, certainly, and of course everyone wanted the fans to feel the transition to the new studio was worthwhile, but they required extra consideration. Moisturize your face. Hair product, blow dry, beard oil, wash your hands. Dry your hands. Make sure the moisturizer is absorbed. Put on the clear powder to banish the inevitable shine. Debate covering up any shadows under your eyes. Add more powder just before they went live. More powder at the break.

“And here I thought we’d all managed to avoid this nonsense.” Liam twirled a fabulously poufy makeup brush over his nose in a fit of whimsy before sticking it in a jar of tiny marbles with the bristles pointing up. Oh, and don’t forget to clean the makeup brushes every week unless you enjoyed your acne filled teen years.

Liam sighed and arched an eyebrow at his reflection.

“The show must go on.”

“Feeling Shakespearean?” Matt said from beyond the door, his voice warm with amusement.

Liam smiled. “You can come in, I’m dressed.”

The door opened and Matt sat in the second dressing chair. “I was about to knock and you were starting to monologue.” He quirked an eyebrow at Liam and pulled up his own bucket of makeup brushes from the storage area below. Liam watched as Matt applied the powder without the benefit of a mirror.

“Fa la la la,” Liam said in a friendly, sing-song tone. “Happy little voices.”

Matt set his face and ran a brush through his hair. He frowned as he touched the myriad of fly-away hairs. “Damn frizz.” he said. He grabbed a bottle and sprayed his hair. After a few moments he lightly ran his hand along the errant strands.

“You’re gor-ge-ous.” Liam said in accentuated New Jersey. “Boo-te-ful.” He wrinkled his nose at Matt and got up out of his seat.

“Well,” Matt called over his shoulder, “Can’t look as good as you with all your extra beauty sleep.”

That little flitter in his stomach was preshow nerves. Certainly that. And they always joked with each other. Hell, he’d be shouting intensely ridiculous insults in a bit, just to see if Matt would break before the intro.

“Envy is beneath you,” Liam called behind him before he quickly shut the door. It thunked closed a little harder than he intended. No problem. Hands slip. No biggie.

Liam turned and walked quickly down the hall and into the empty lobby. The paintings and art prints sent in by the Critters lined the walls. He walked past them, unseeing, and nearly dashed for the front door.

Outside was hot, dry, and had a film of smog in the skyline. The promised rain was days away. Liam longed for blue skies. Tall mountains and wide rivers. The smell of evergreen trees and the crunch of needles under his feet.

He started a walk around the studio and felt the sweat on his face. Stupid. He’d have to start from the top when he got back inside.

Get it together. You’re reading into things. Why are you reading into things?

Liam stopped half way around the building, passed the parked cars and the narrow strip of drought dead grass. What was going on with his head?

“Doesn’t matter. Game night. Kill a few pirates. Stay alive. Have fun?” He shook his head at the questioning note in his own voice. He kept walking.

The sweat was just starting to gather in his hair as he strolled up the sidewalk to the front door. He reached a hand into his pocket.

“You have got to be kidding me."

He did the pat down of his pockets, even though he knew, in hind sight, that his electronic door badge was on the dressing counter along with his wallet, phone, and car keys.

“Mother fucker.”

Liam tapped his head lightly, repetitively against the glass of the lobby door as he hit the guest buzzer. It would make a little light flash on the lobby desk and send some texts to various phones. No little bells or dings in a recording studio.

Liam waited. He settled for rubbing his now sweaty head into the cool glass and wondering who would answer the door to mock him first.

Matt. Of course Matt. He strolled into the lobby, reached over the desk to tap the button, and held Liam’s errant possessions out as the door opened.

“Having a day?” Matt said with a curious look.

Liam pocketed his things, phone in one side, wallet in the other, keys clipped to a belt loop. They turned and walked back into the studio. He should say something simple and cut the silence. He should --

“Hey.” Matt’s hand touched his shoulder lightly. “What’s up?”

Liam flashed a pained smile as he pulled away from Matt and collapsed into one of the waiting area chairs. He fiddled with his watch for a moment and waited to see what Matt would do.

Matt sat back on his heels, his weight balanced on his feet in front of Liam. He took one of Liam’s hands in his own and rested his other hand on Liam’s leg. Visible worry lined his face.

“You’ve been a bit off all day. What’s wrong? Can I help?”

A frustrated, sad laugh blurted out of Liam and he clapped a hand to his mouth and looked away. Matt didn’t let go but Liam could feel the tension in the hand that held his own.

“You know how a lot of fiction is out there making light of Sam and I being in some kind of romantic relationship?” He glanced at Matt from the corner of his eye.

Matt’s head pulled back and his chin dropped with a touch of confusion at the topic.

“Sure. It’s not something I actively seek out but it’s hard to miss the undertones…” Matt trailed off. He looked at Liam expectantly, clearly seeking more information.

“Well,” Liam said, his throat suddenly felt constricted. He swallowed to try and clear it. “They got the actors all wrong.” His hand barely squeezed Matt and then he let go and ran both his hands over his face and cradled his forehead.

Matt started to speak when the lobby door opened and Dani, Max and Marisha poured into the space, caught in animated conversation. They all came to a sudden stop when they saw Liam and Matt. With wordless negotiation Dani and Max walked quickly past the two and Marisha hung back.

“So… Having a great start to game night, guys?” Marisha said. She dumped her laptop bag on the couch and perched in the chair next to Liam, her feet tucked under her body so she was nearly at a right angle to him.

The silence stretched out. He couldn’t find a way out of what he’d already said and he knew, knew beyond any doubt, he had just fucked things up. Did he have to drag Marisha into the fuckery too? Couldn’t he just find some way to pretend this hadn’t happened with Matt, in private?

“Liam noticed.” Matt said. His voice sounded broken and rough and Liam tilted his head to see tears in Matt’s eyes.

“Well. Fuck. That complicates things a bit.” Marisha said. She shifted so her legs were folded under her and she could lean on the armrest with one elbow.

“So how far along is this,” she said in a wry tone. “Are we at the, I have feelings for you and I’ve been hiding them for a while, and I’m sorry I’ve now made life awkward stage, or are we at the it’s flattering but we’re both married and what the hell, Matt, stage.”

Liam looked between the two of them as if they had suddenly begun speaking in fluent German. He literally couldn’t wrap his brain around what he was hearing.

Marisha’s expression shifted from a sense of resigned sadness masquerading as sass to shock.

“Oh. Oh shit.”

Matt wiped the back of his hand across his face. “Yeah well, we didn’t really talk about that possibility.”

“Oh… Um. No. No we had not.” Marisha let her whole weight flop into the chair as she shifted to wrap her hands around her knees.

“You, you both have talked about this?” Liam felt a strange, giddy nausea hit his stomach.

“Let’s move this to the actual office.” Marisha said. She leveraged herself out of her chair and grabbed her bag. Liam found himself herded between Matt and Marisha into the small office that had an actual door. She closed the door behind them.

Liam looked between the two chairs in front of the desk, the one behind, and the loveseat against the wall and grabbed a single chair. He dragged it over near, but not too near the love seat.

It felt good to sit down. It felt better to hide his face in his hands while he rested his elbows on his knees. He took a few long, careful breaths.

He heard movement and inferred that Matt and Marisha were sitting together on the ancient leather loveseat.

“I’m sorry,” Matt said. “I didn’t mean to turn things upside down for you. For us. For anyone. It just…” He trailed off.

“So,” Liam said, head still in his hands. “Just to be clear. You have feelings, and we’re going to have to dig into what the fuck that means in a bit, about me. You’ve talked to Marisha about it. It’s been a - a thing for a while, and you weren’t going to tell me.”

“Well, when you put it like that --“ Marisha started but Matt interrupted her.

“Don’t put any of this on Marisha. I told her as soon as I realized what was going on and I’m the one who asked her to keep it quiet. I didn’t want to fuck up the group. This company. Our friendship. Your marriage. Any of it.”

Liam rubbed his hands over his face and pressed his fingers into his temples. It was a futile attempt to abate the massive headache that was building behind his eyes. He took a deep breath.

“Time to camera?” he asked without looking up.

“What?” Matt was clearly surprised.

After a pause Marisha answered. “About forty-five minutes.”

Liam let out a soft, slow exhale and looked up at his friends. He didn’t bother to wipe away the tears on his face.

“This isn’t a forty-five minute conversation. And this isn’t a conversation we should have, at all, without someone else in the room. Because we are not going to fuck up this company and we are definitely not going to fuck up this family.” He offered a pained smile. “We can only do that if we don’t talk to each other.”

Liam got up out of the chair and squeezed Matt once on the shoulder before moving away.“We’re all actors enough to get through the next few hours. We’ve done VO sessions under worse constraints. So go get your heads together, and we will deal with this. I’ll call her and we’ll all get on the same page, whatever page that ends up being, after the session.”

“Liam, are you sure?” Matt sounded so be damned vulnerable.

“I’m not sure about anything, Matt. That’s kind of the point of talking about it.” Liam regretted the sharpness in his tone. “I’m sorry.” He turned towards Marisha. “I am not angry, not at you, either of you.”

Marisha held Matt’s hand and looked between the two of them. He could see her fighting between her responsibilities as Matt’s wife and the Creative Director.

“Can we just get through the session, guys. Do that, and deal with our exetensional-midlife-whothefuckknows-whatthis crisis in a few hours?”

Matt gently let go of Marisha. He tentatively walked up to stand in front of Liam, a hand out stretched.

Liam took it and Matt clung to his hands as he spoke. “We’ll do the game. It’ll be okay. And we’ll talk. And I’m sorry I tried to hide this. It was stupid.”

Liam pulled Matt into a hard hug and heard Matt go ‘oof’.

“You’re still my friend. It’s been a while since my friends were also my hot friends that got me bothered at night but we’ll figure it out.”

There was a soft, surprised huff of laughter and Liam figured that was the best exit he’d get. He released Matt, turned and walked out of the office.

Exit stage left. Change costume. Enter stage right. Get through the game. Hope nothing too serious happened to add to the cluster of emotions that threatened to drown him tonight.

Liam stopped in an isolated corner of the studio and leaned against a wall. He sucked in a few trembling breaths before he engaged his core and focused on breathing. Really breathing. He grabbed his phone out of his pocket, stared at it for a few moments. He put it away.

Forty minutes wasn’t nearly long enough to have that conversation either. 

He took his own advice and spent the next few minutes compartmentalizing the last half hour. When he sat down at the table Matt appeared his usual self. Liam let Laura lead the charge on the intro insults but he managed a decent ad hoc joke that made the table break into hoots as the camera’s turned back on.

Matt launched into the recap, his eyes catching the various players but lingering almost never on Liam.

The line flitted through Liam's head, unbidden. 

By heaven, I do love: and it hath taught me to rhyme, and to be melancholy.


End file.
